Season of Misgivings

The fag fog is back.

It's not the haze you see in your low beams. No, it's a shroud of dread that descends on the hearts and souls of homos during the holidays. In a constant struggle to come to terms with ourselves, this is the annual time we also have to come to terms with our families--even the ones who don't like us or don't know we are gay. It's an anxious month of awkward sleeping arrangements, hurt feelings and crappy or inappropriate gifts. That's why bars and bathhouses are packed in December. Queer folk just want to go someplace, anyplace where they can clear their groggy noggin.

It's an annual tradition. And it can make a gay Tiny Tim feel like an elf just rammed a candy crutch up his ass.

That's why I am developing a homo-for-the-holidazed action plan. Consider it my way of reclaiming Christmas (kind of like we did with the once-despised "Q" word).

Step One: I vow to put X-citement into Xmas. We had no problem transforming Halloween into one of our highest of holy days. Why can't we do the same with baby Jesus' big day? Instead of setting the Nativity scene in B-town, we could set His birth in Old Town (maybe C.C. Slaughters--they already have the bales of hay). While we're at it we can replace the wise men, with three sassy drag queens dripping in gold, scarfing frankfurters and listening to Myrrh-iah Carey. If we can't laugh at Jesus, whom can we laugh at?

Step Two: I affirm to stop wallowing in the deep end of the gravy boat. Rather than eat my way through the holidays one more time, I plan on shopping--a lot. Shopping heals all wounds, and nothing says, "I love my queer self!" like a pricey cashmere sweater from Banana Republic, credit limits be damned.

Step Three: I am going to take the advice of Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays and try "bookending." Keep your hand out of your pants for a moment, perv-head. It's not a sexual act you perform in a dirty bookstore. It's an attempt to be around "friends" you actually like before and after you're around the "family" that drives you crazy. Think of it as queer quality time.

Step Four: I am not going to watch any sad movies. That means my ritualistic holiday film festival viewing of Ordinary People, Terms of Endearment and Mahogany will not be happening this year. I do plan on watching Scary Movie 2 and all the Friday films.

Step Five: When I was 21, I told my dad I wanted to be a professional disco dancer. So why, at the ripe age of 40, am I still too embarrassed to tell him I'm gay? Well, this is the year I think I'll give a present to myself. I think I'll tell Pop I'm a big ol' homo. What's the worst thing that can happen?

Find helpful holiday hints for homos at www.pflag.org .

Portland Gay Men's Chorus presents its annual holiday concert with a Gallic twist.

My favorite hairy huggers, the Oregon Bears, combine forces with the Rose Court to create a one- of- a- kind show! Think of it. Drag queens and bears. Together. Leather, Levis and Latinos, too. It's all part of Bear Drive 2002. Goldilocks will never be the same.

WWeek 2015